


Lapse into Unreal

by Skeren



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Cannibalism, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5901643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeren/pseuds/Skeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd rather have been dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lapse into Unreal

**Author's Note:**

> Written December 2005.
> 
> This was originally inspired by a pretty, but extremely harsh, piece of fanart that was on a website that no longer exists. I decided then to run with the concept in this.

Wrath he could understand. He wasn’t made to bleed out, whatever else he was, that wasn’t part of it. But him… he was, yet he wasn’t, and that scared him, made him think they’d given him something to stop him from bleeding while he’d been unconscious. Or maybe the cold air was serving to do it, as though they were being refrigerated… 

It was hardly the only thing that had him petrified at the moment though, and he had the fleeting, hysterical idea that even if he could get his limbs from Wrath, he certainly couldn’t use them now. It really wasn’t feasible in this insane hodgepodge of pale and dark skin with metal laid alongside, where he was sure that at least one was missing from the earlier visit Gluttony had given them, though he didn’t know whose it was. 

Has it been his? The child sin? Did it matter at all? Shuddering, he curled a little more, trying to ignore the sickly feeling the crate they were in brought around. It made the ropes at his thighs, tourniquets, rub, make him stop as he tried not to fall into a panic. This was one place he’d never ever expected to be in his life, limbless and stored in a silk lined crate with someone else, settled in almost decorative manner.

He didn’t know where Al was, they’d been separated the week before, but he hoped, wished fervently that Al wouldn’t look at him too closely if he found him. Look at this too closely, and just take him away instead. 

He heard footsteps, and he felt Wrath tense against him even as he tensed. Friend, enemy, someone to come take a look at the artistry?

He heard Lust’s quiet voice clearly, the words alone enough to make him ill if he hadn’t felt queasy already. “Just one piece Gluttony, one of the small ones.”

He couldn’t blame Wrath when he started bawling this time, he wanted to just as badly, but he was terrified that he’d die if he let himself. Instead, he just closed his eyes tight and pleaded to some deity that he didn’t believe in that this wouldn’t continue much longer.


End file.
